


The Book of Love and Loss

by AromanticShortStories



Series: Aromantic Halloween [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aroflux Character, F/F, Halloween prompt, Lesbian Character, Mentions of Pregnancy, POV First Person, Questioning character, aroflux lesbian character, love potions, non-consensual use of love potions, romance-favorable aromantic, trans woman character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 15:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16390550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AromanticShortStories/pseuds/AromanticShortStories
Summary: "Truly a love potion only truth requires one thing: the capacity to love"





	The Book of Love and Loss

**Author's Note:**

> THE POTIONS IN THIS BOOK ARE FICTION AND ARE NOT MEANT TO BE USED. The author holds no responsibility for any attempt at making them but please do not try and make them.

There is a small village near a wood that holds no people anymore. Everywhere everything is overgrown and in decay. Down an old cobblestone path towards the edge of the town nearly hidden by the trees is an old wooden Cottage. And within that old wooden cottage, there is a book. The book is old. It’s bound tightly by a hand-made leather cover, dark brown when the dust is wiped away. It protects the yellow and flaking paper within. Burnt into the leather cover are the words:  
  
**_The Book of Love and Loss_ **

****__  
  
And below that, in smaller text

  
_On the love of the moon goddess_

  
  
And under that a circle, half filled in. A moon halfway through its cycle: impossible to tell if it is waxing and waning.   
  
Inside the front cover, on the first yellowing and crumbling page, is a handwritten note:   
  
‘If you are reading this then you have found not only a book of love potions but the works and diary of a witch whose love waxed and waned as the moon goddesses herself.’

 

The book starts three pages in.

 

_‘_ **_W_ ** _hen_ I was a child’ it starts, the text old but clear enough to read ‘my mother would tell me of the moon goddess and how she would hide and run from her lovers, teasing them with moments of affection before turning her back again, as she is ever fickle. The Earth would feel her full love only twelve times a year when the moon would turn her full face and smile down upon her. Her lover the sun would feel her touch even less.

My mother would say “It is only upon the nights when the moon is sending down the fullness of her love that a love potion can be made. That the water and herbs can be collected and mixed and only on this night that such a potion could be taken”

“There are days too in which a potion can be made,” She would go on, “they are few and far between, when the moon turns herself to her other lover, the sun, and moves over him in joining. These are potions of lust and can only be made in the few moments of the sun and moons coupling.”

“What of an anti-love potion?” I had asked and my mother had waved me away. “Who would need such a thing? No-one wants an anti-love potion. No-one would choose to not feel love.” She had insisted. I could not believe that, but I was too young to argue so I learned what my mother taught: how to amplify existing love and to transform one kind of love to another.  


_A basic love potion:_   
_Collect water from a pool in which the full moon is reflection undisturbed and the following: a lemon peel from a lemon harvested upon the full moon, jasmine flower collected upon the full moon, honey collected upon the full moon. Bring the water to a boil over a small fire and place in the lemon peel, jasmine flower, and honey. seep and drink while focusing on the one you love or wish to love._

  
my mother owned a store in which she sold all sorts of charms and candles and trinkets but she was best known for her love potions. People of all kinds would come every day for her works. “For an anniversary” some would say with a wink and others would say “for good luck” And still others “for a rekindling.” The ones I remember the most though those who would come to us, demanding their money back because the potion had not worked.   
“Obviously they had never truly loved this person as they said they did.” My mother would huff, upset at having to return the money “my potions never fail when love is already present. They must not have truly loved their other.”

  
_On The Love Of The Sun And The Earth._   
  
_The Sun and the Earth are old lovers, content and strong._   
_The Sun gives the Earth warmth and love and feeds her cycles._   
_He gives her light to grow in her summer, and warm days to fill her harvest._   
_And as she goes to rest in the winter he pulls back, letting her become blanketed in snow, so she might rest._ _  
_ Yet when the spring comes he comes to her again and warms her, waking her from her summer.

_And she meets him in joy with flowers and love._

  
I met Eve on a bright summer day, and, to me, she was like the sun to my earth. Radiant and beautiful and I did not wish to spend time apart. Nights were torturous and dark yet days when she appeared where full of joy and love. I could understand then why people came for my mother's potions, to feel this was glorious. Our coming together heavenly. Our moments apart earth shattering. Yet, as time went on my love faded. I could not understand it, for I had loved this woman so strongly yet I could feel my love slipping through my fingers. She was still gorgeous and I could see her beauty yet no matter how long I tried to hold to her my love slowly vanished.   
I had never been more tempted to take one of my mothers potions if only my love for her would not be lost.

I remember the first taste of that love potion. It was sweet like nothing before and the honey within it sent my mind singing. The taste of rose was the last thing that hit and as I lay under the full moon I thought of my lover and said a prayer to the goddess that my love might be restored.

The next day, as I went to see my Eve I could feel my heart shattering within my chest for, even as she ran up to kiss me, I felt nothing for her. Her beauty had not faded, she was still as the sun, but my love had not been restored. I watched her and knew I had failed.

 

_A love potion to amplify existing love:_

_This love potion is the simplest of all, but the effects can be varied depending on the type of rose that is chosen to be used._

_For amplification of a new love make this love potion using rosebuds rather than rose petals._

_For amplification of lust collect bright red petals from a fully bloomed rose_

_For amplification of a lovers friendship use yellow rose petals._

_For amplification of affection use white rose petals._

_For amplification of kindness use pink rose petals._

_Mix and match as needed._

_Under the light of the full moon collect rosebuds or rose petals as needed and allow to dry completely. Upon another full moon bring water (collected under the full moon) to a boil upon a small fire and add rose petals or buds. Allow the mixture to boil for a short time (taste to ensure it does not become bitter) before removing from heat and adding honey also collected under the full moon. Allow to cool completely and drink cold while thinking of who you are in love with._

 

Eve was the first, but she was not the last. There were times when my love would be so brief that by the time I decided to confess, it had already faded. Yet others where the love would come so suddenly only to vanish just as quickly. There were months in which love was something I felt completely incapable of, and then months in which love seemed the most sensible thing in the world. Sometimes too, my mind would wander to my old loves and I would think ‘oh! How strongly I love them now! How strongly my love flows, deep inside me, burning with want for them!’ But I knew that, as always, that love would vanish and fade and so I could not go back. They deserved more than a lover that could only love them in bursts and bumps.

And so I dedicated myself to my training with my mother. I had started making love potions myself by the time I was seventeen and, by the time I was in my twenties I was making my own formulas, trying my own hand at fixing myself and laying myself out under the full moon in hopes that this one would work.

You think often of the moon when you are making love potions, resting under her full light to soak up her love as she offers it freely to the earth before she turns her back again. In the times I resorted to my and my mothers love potions I would sit and stare up at her, praying for my love to last, to strengthen, to stay unfaded. But in all those times of meditation and prayer I would start to think, why do we pray to her for strengthening love? When she herself will just tomorrow begin to turn her back upon the earth? And why, too, would she turn her back to the earth if she loves her so? I had spoken to my mother and others in the village about my worries, about my fading love, but all had insisted that it was natural, that it was rare that one constantly liked the person they were with, that all people needed their own space only to come together again in love but I could see they did not understand. It was not that I no longer liked the person, for that was often not the case at all. It was not my lust for them nor my want for companionship that changed. It was my _love_. Pure and simple. My love would fade and vanish and I would be left with nothing but friendship, if I was so lucky. “Then the relationship is not meant to be” some in the town would tell me, “It would be cruel to both of you to continue it. Have it over with and find someone else who you can love without end.” and yet others would laugh and say, “that is always how young love is. It comes in bursts and fades just as quick. When you are older it will settle and you will find someone for whom your love holds constant.” and yet I had to wonder: what age must I be for that to happen? I was near thirty soon and such had not happened and yet I had seen plenty younger then myself find happiness and stability in love, surely age was not so strong a factor!

My mother had simply offered me a love potion. It had been no different from the rest.

 

_A warning on the nature of love potions._

_Love potions must be taken willingly, otherwise, they will fail to work and can often cause unexplained and unexpected consequences._

 

Betrayal is an odd thing to discover and the pain of it can be so intense it is impossible to think clearly. It was near to my first child’s birth that I discovered my mother's acts. I had been so in love with my child’s other mother, Frea, and I thought that she would be the one, the person for whom my love would finally stay unfaded. As our child grew within me I prayed to the moon goddess that my love would stay this time, that it would not fail. Yet, like always, it did. It was my choice to end things, as it always is. I could not live with the pain of a lie to her and, as with all my earlier loves, it had to end.

She had been as understanding as she always was, smiling and squeezing my hand as I confessed and cried. “I would like to see my child when they are born,” Was all she said “and I would still help you in their raising though I am not a witch myself. I would be part of this child’s life if it is your will.” And how could I deny her that? She didn’t live far from my families house and it would be nothing to give her that much, for this child had been created from our love, even if that love had vanished for me.

And yet my mother had not been happy. She had not been happy with me for a while, with every failed relationship her anger only grew. “I do not understand it!” she would say when the topic came up, “You say your love fades yet you are too old for these fickle love problems! You are not immortal as the moon goddess! You cannot keep turning away from these relationships!”

I would try to explain that it was not that I was turning my back, it was just that my love would fade and go. “Yet yesterday you were speaking of how true this love was!” she would yell back and she would not be wrong, for some days the change was so swift it left me dizzy. “You cannot fall out of love so quickly! You are either lying or there is something wrong with you!”

More often than not these conversations would leave me in tears, for I did not know what was wrong with me, I did not know why my love was like this, yet I knew it was and there was no love potion that could fix it and yet, still I knew I would continue to try.

 

_A love potion for immortal love:_

_A love potion from the earth to the sun - to strengthen existing love and give it continued life:_

_Apples harvested at the peak of the season in the height of the sun's light. Water, collected while the sun is reflecting upon its surface, cinnamon sticks that have been allowed to soak warmth from the sun for half a day and sun-warmed honey (light in color)_

_While the sun is still in the sky, chop your apples into large pieces into your pot of water a boil over the heat of a fire. Once boiling adds cinnamon and honey and continues to let it boil, stirring as needed until apples are softened. Drain through a cloth into a glass container to store or to drink hot with your loved one. This drink must be shared between those wishing to feel its effects._

 

I would not take the potions while with child, for I did not want to mistakenly harm them. Yet, it was because to the child within me that I learned of my mother's actions. I had been taught that woman, while with child would often smell things differently and taste things differently. That small flavors would be amplified upon their mouths.

I was nearly due when I joined my mother for our nightly dinner and noticed it. The food was sweeter upon my mouth then I remembered, sticking to my tongue and there, in the back of my mouth, the taste of ginger lingered.

I had taken this love potion a number of times and I knew its flavor, even diluted within my food. Outside I knew the full moon shone bright and, within my stomach I could feel my child kick. My stomach turned and I pushed my food away.

I was in no shape to confront my mother and yet I still did. Yelling and crying at her for spiking my food, for forcing a potion upon me against my will. For putting my child in danger in such a way.

“I put nothing in you that would harm your child!” she had yelled back, insistent in her anger “I am only trying to help!”

My anger bled white in my vision but then there was no time for anger as my child was being born.  

 

_A love potion for friendship_

_In a cup, pour in a small number of dried fennel seeds. Boil moon water and let sit for a short time and let cool until only slightly hot to the touch. Cover the cup with a plate for a short time until the water has turned a soft yellow. Drink with friends._

 

I did not return to my mother’s home after my child was born. I went to the midwives rather than have her come to me for she did not live so far away and I knew I could make it. She was kind enough to let me stay until both my and the child were healthy enough to leave and, from there, I went to the only person I knew would take us in.

Her door opened to me and our small child, the good luck charm upon her door chiming in the wind. She was as beautiful as ever as she looked upon me and our child in shock and, it that moment, I could not help but cry.

“My mother has been giving me love potions without my knowledge.” I hiccuped to her as she held out her arms to take our child, holding her close so I might have my breakdown. “She’s been trying to force me to love.” I cried as I was ushered into her house, “I cannot go back to her. I can not go back to that house.”

 

_A love potion for self-love:_

_Under the full moon: Collect fresh milk from a cow. Cut sprigs of lavender, ten for every cup of milk, and fresh honey. Bring the milk to a simmer over a low fire before adding the lavender flowers. Heat for a short time, testing the flavor and stirring while thinking of your intent for self-love and acceptance. Once done strain the solution through a cloth into a new pot to remove all of the lavender flowers (return to the garden bed from whence they were collected) and place the milk back onto the heat. Add in honey to desired sweetness and drink._

 

In those first weeks after leaving my mother's house I had to wonder: was she the reason my love would come and go like sparks flying from a fire? Was she, in her attempt to make me love, doing the opposite? That instead of making me capable of love she was stealing my love from me by giving me a potion against my knowledge? Or worse, was her potion working and, instead, were the moments I felt love only due to my mother's potion?

I sat for weeks thinking on this before my numbing sadness faded and my anger took over. If this was a problem with a love potion, then an _anti-_ love potion had to be made. No such thing existed, but I knew my mother's potions and could make them myself and, in that way, I knew I could _un-_ make them.

 

_An anti-love potion_

_Collect water upon the new moon and, if possible, water that has neither felt the touch of the moon or the sun. bring to a boil. Add chopped Mugwort root which has been dug from the ground under the new moon so it has never felt its love. Heat and seep for a short time. Drink unsweetened._

 

I had taken many love potions in my life, outside of what my mother had been giving me and, somehow, on the back of my mind I knew my mother's manipulations were not at fault for my inconsistent love. I already knew as I set out to make my first anti-love potion that when I took love potion while experiencing moments of love the potion would near always work but, taken in moments of incapability it would always fail. By then I had some ideas as to why, for it was well known that love potions would not create love if the potential for the attraction was not there. I also knew that, no matter how often I took a love potion, it could not strive off the inevitable fall.

Still, I was hopeful I had found an answer and so I pushed and tried.

My anti-love potions both worked and did not. Just as with the love potions if I was in a bout of what I had come to call my ‘love fever’ I could take a love potion and feel myself fall in love with any woman I chose, but then I could take my anti-love potion and feel nothing again. Yet If I was in a period of incapability, just as the love potion nothing worked. It was as if my body was incapable of experiencing the spells as they were meant, that the potions themselves had nothing to work with and failed.

I was starting to become stronger in my belief that my mother's actions were not at fault for my ever-changing capacity to love, as much as the thought pained me.

 

_An anti-love potion for healing and self-love_

_Heat new moon water to boiling and, in another container add sprigs of rosemary, Fennel seeds, and chamomile. Pour the water over the herbs in a counter-clockwise direction while thinking of the healing you would like to receive. Drink under the new moon, slowly and in comfort._

 

I discovered another ‘quirk’ of my anti-love potions for, while I could make myself fall in love with someone specific through use of a love potion, and just as easily fall out of love with an anti-love potion never did my anti-love potions cause me to fail to experience love at all. I could still fall in love and be in love with others after taking the anti-love potion. All it ever did was cancel the effects of the love potion.

Perhaps I would never have noticed if I hadn’t been living with Frea. When I had met her I had fallen for her near instantaneously - and I would refuse to believe it was my mothers doing for love potions taken without consent or knowledge do not work- for she was as gorgeous as the night. Constellations danced across her dark skin and her smile was like the moon. I was enraptured as she spoke and laughed and joked and I could not imagine letting her leave our shop without a promise of an outing.

She had taken her luck charm, a small thing to hang upon her house door to ensure goodwill upon those inside, and an invitation for a night out that she readily accepted.

My love for Frea has been a perfect whirlwind, our love for each other just as strong as our love for adventure and I had thought, for sure, that this would be the one to last, that surely it would not fade.

I look at her now through the window to my store. She is holding our daughter and lifting her and tossing her in the light of the sun, and I know I love her again, the same love that I felt when I first saw her, the same love I felt when I found I was with child. And yet I know, too, that this will vanish a fade, again and again, and again as it has done since she has taken me in. A constant ebb and flow, waxing and waning of my love.

I am reminded of my mother's clients who would come back, empty vial in hand, and yell that the potion had not worked, that their love had not grown or changed or evolved. I remember my mother's tight annoyed face as she fought with them, insisting her potions worked and that, obviously, the client simply did not understand what love was. That they had not truly felt love for those they were targeting with the potion. That it was _their_ fault. Always their fault.

I sit now, surrounded by hundreds or love potions and anti-love potions that I now sell from a small storefront that Frea had built for me and I hear the same things. That my potions do not work, that they have failed to help or change the drinkers love as I had promised and I am reminded of my mother and I am reminded of me and I think:

A love potion cannot make me fall in love with a man, no matter if I am in one of my cycles of ‘love fever’. And they could not make me fall for anyone when I was in moments of incapability. So, perhaps, there are those that are simply incapable of falling in love and, perhaps, at times, I am one of them. I do not know, but I wish I did.

 

_A love potion for those who cannot fall in love_

_I am sorry but have no love potion to give you. Just as I never found a love potion for myself. For there is no love potion in existence that can make you feel love, they can only amplify that which already exists._

 

It is my belief now, as I sit and finish this book, that my mother was wrong about the moon goddess. She does not turn her back on the Earth or run from the Sun because she fears commitment to them as my mother taught, but instead, she is like me: with her love fluxing and changing from day to day. And while some of her fluctuations in love are predictable, others are ever changing. As my own love continues to flux and change I sometimes think I can see a pattern, moments and events that cause the switch, but other times it seems sudden and unexpected and so I ride out the changes and movements. I listen to them as they come and I do not resist the changes they bring any more. I am lucky too, as Frea understands and smiles and waits, as patiently as the Earth waiting for the Moon, for me to turn my face back to her with a smile and a kiss. My love always returns, no matter how long it is gone for, but I am coming to appreciate the other moment, the moments where the love is gone for now that I am no longer resisting them they have become something to explore.

 

_A personal prayer to the moon_

_May my eyes, ever-watching your waxing was waning_

_Learn to love my own cycles,_

_As I have learned to love yours_


End file.
